The Mormon and the Dom (18 page)

“They took him to jail?”

“He was screaming about killing me, and then something happened—I think he shoved the officer—and they found marijuana in his apartment. Or in his pocket. Something. I don’t know. By that point, I was in my apartment with the door bolted.” Noah hung his head. “I just wanted him to stop stealing my parking spot. I should have just parked in the visitor lot.”

“He would have found another way to engage you. Guys like Keith are relentless once they find a target.”

“Is it because…”

“It’s not because you’re gay.” Noah seemed to really believe that people could look at him and know everything about him with one glance.

“How do you know?” Noah hit him with those incisive blue eyes of his.

“How would
he
know? What do you think? There’s like a gay essence or maybe Keith has gaydar?”

Noah didn’t even crack a smile. “You said that dick in your dorm picked nice guys.”

“So only nice guys are gay?” Ronan returned to the stove. He stirred the sauce so the water would evaporate, thickening it up. “I’ve got news for you. Dicks come in all shapes, sizes, races, and orientations.”

“I guess so.”

“Noah, he picked you because he picked you. He probably saw you and realized you don’t have a lot of people coming over and that way he could bully you without fear of reprisal.” From Ronan’s experience, dicks tended to target the quiet ones who didn’t have a lot of friends. Bullies had a core group of people who would back them up because they were generally bullies, too.

“I only have my family over, but even then not very often. I’ve done things with coworkers, but we always meet up somewhere. It’s not like I don’t have friends. I do.”

“But you don’t have them over a lot.”

“Right.”

“It’s not about how many friends you have. It’s about you being there at the apartment alone. If you had a roommate, chances are he would have left you alone.” Ronan deemed the sauce was ready, so he smeared it on the waiting crust. “It’s about picking a target that he knows he’s stronger than. He’s a dick and a bully. Bullies never pick on someone their own size. Have you noticed that? They always pick on someone smaller.”

“And weaker.” Noah lifted his arm and flexed his muscle. He was wearing a button-down shirt from work, but Ronan could still see his sleek muscle below the blue fabric. “I need to bulk up.”

“You’re perfect just the way you are.”

“But I want to bulk up.”

“Okay. I can help with that.”

“Would you?”

“Sure. I can even spend the night over at your place. That’ll make it clear to Keith to back the fuck off.”

Noah looked like his eyes were going to explode out of his face.

“Or not.”

“It’s not you. It’s just half the people who live in the building know my folks.”

“I understand.”

“But thank you for wanting to help. I appreciate that.”

“If there’s anything I could do, let me know.”

“I will.” Noah watched as Ronan put various veggies on the pizza. “Of course, that brings me back to my folks.”

“And the mission.”

“Yes.” Noah uttered another long sigh. Ronan knew how stressed he was, because he was sighing up a storm. “They want me to drop my entire life to go who knows where to spread the word of a religion that despises me for the way God made me.”

What Noah said actually surprised Ronan.

“What?” Noah asked, obviously picking up on Ronan’s reaction.

“Just—that you realize you came into the world this way.”

“I think I’ve always known, but it’s scary to accept that. It was easier to think something made me this way.”

“Something like what?”

“Maybe a relative put me in a dress as a joke. Or I played with a neighbor’s doll. You know, something totally innocent and happenstance just flipped the gay switch in my brain.” Noah laughed wryly. “If it were that simple, then I imagine there would be a lot more gay people in the world.”

“You know, you have some of the deepest insights of anyone I’ve ever met.”

“You’re joking.”

“I’m not.” Ronan really wasn’t. “You grasp that it wasn’t anything anyone else did or said. It wasn’t an event. Nothing turned you gay. You have always been the way you are.”

“After struggling with it for…well, all my life, I finally realized I am just the way I’m supposed to be.”

“Popeye.”

“What?” Noah asked with a laugh.

“‘I am what I am,’” Ronan said, trying to mimic the cartoon character’s voice. “That’s Popeye.”

“Ah.”

“I wasn’t making fun of you.”

“I didn’t think you were. But that’s it in a nutshell. I am what I am and who I am. I’m sick of feeling bad about myself when there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“There’s not.”

“I have a right to be who I am. I’m not hurting anyone. I’m not going around trying to recruit men to join the gay army.”

“We have an army?”

“You know what I mean. There are people in my ward who really believe there’s some kind of gay agenda. I just want to live my life and not be bothered.”

“Here, here.” Ronan left off pointing out the hypocrisy of the church. They feared gays converting their members but didn’t see anything wrong with sending missionaries all over the world to convert people to Mormonism.

“I just wish it was as easy as making a declaration.”

“What stands in the way of that?”

“I couldn’t bear to lose my family and friends.” Noah shook his head. “Can we talk about something else? I’d like to get my mind off all my troubles for a while.”

“I can distract you with sex.”

“Perfect!”

But they didn’t talk about sex. They were quiet for a while. Noah sat at the table turned sideways in his chair while Ronan worked in the kitchen. Noah seemed spellbound by what Ronan was doing.

When he asked, Noah explained, “It’s your hands.”

“My hands?”

“You can do an amazing amount of things with your hands. Cooking, caring—”

“Spine melting orgasms,” Ronan interjected. “Oh, wait. That’s you.”

“You, too.” Noah rose. “Can I help?”

“Sure.” Ronan handed him the small plastic tub of cheese. “Slather that baby up.”

“I’ve never had pizza that wasn’t from a restaurant.”

“I think you’ll like this.”

“You made it,” Noah said, sprinkling cheese over the pie. “I’ll love it.”

For a split second, Ronan thought Noah had said he loved him. But he realized Noah was talking about the pizza. “So, what did you end up telling your folks?” Right after he asked, Ronan realized they were trying to talk about something else. “Sorry. I just—tell me about—” he was about to say work but that would lead back to the car. Unable to come up with anything, he stood there mute.

“It’s okay. Really. I guess I’m not talked out about it after all.” Noah shrugged. “I didn’t say much of anything. I didn’t know what to say.”

When he was finished covering the pie with a combination of mozzarella and cheddar cheese, Ronan popped it into the oven, then set the timer.

“I feel like I’m being backed into a corner. It’s slow, but it’s persistent. You know what I mean?” Noah laughed suddenly. “Of course you don’t. A guy like you doesn’t let anyone push him around.”

“Actually, I’ve been there. I think everyone has. Just because my family was unorthodox doesn’t mean they didn’t have expectations.”

“Like what?”

“My mother is a lawyer. One of my father’s is a dentist. They wanted me to become a white-collar professional. My other father was a stay-at-home father who wanted me to follow in his footsteps. Imagine their surprise when I wanted to be an artist who also practices BDSM?” Ronan remembered the uncomfortable shock when his parents found out about his predilection. “They were convinced they’d done something wrong because I was into leather and control.”

“I’m sorry. I guess that came off rather insensitive of me. Sometimes I think I’m the only one carrying around a burden.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll just punish you later.”

“Yay!” Noah laughed. “I guess you can’t really use that as a threat when I like to be punished.”

“You bad, bad boy.”

Noah shivered. “That just pushes something in me.”

“Oh, I’ve got something to push in you.” Ronan playfully grabbed his crotch, giving his cock a shake.

“Pervert.”

“You love it.”

“I do.” Noah leaned up to kiss him lightly on the mouth. “I really, really do.”

Ronan knew he was just teasing, but he couldn’t help but think the first light threads of love were slowly wrapping around them, binding them together.

Chapter Fourteen

Noah found himself getting caught up in his own words. Did he love Ronan? How could he? He hadn’t known him long enough. Not that he believed there was some kind of time limit on those feelings, just that it seemed too soon somehow. Maybe what he was feeling were the first stirrings. He’d never been in love before, so maybe it started out with really admiring the person. And Noah definitely admired Ronan. He was strong without being a bully. Things that snarled Noah up like a worn fishing net wouldn’t faze Ronan. And he would never have been the target of a bully like Keith.

“How long does it take to cook?” Noah peered in the window of the oven but couldn’t see anything until Ronan flipped on the light.

“About twenty minutes.” He leaned over and looked in. “Why? Got something on your mind?”

“Nothing that could be done in twenty minutes.”

“A man after my own heart.” Ronan grinned. “Hey, I know what we can do while we wait.”

Noah followed Ronan into the living room. From a shelf below the surface of the coffee table, he removed what looked like a small leather briefcase. Expecting just about anything, Noah was surprised to discover it was a backgammon board.

“Do you play?” Ronan asked.

“Actually, I do. Family home evening.”

“That’s where your family hangs out together and does things?”

Noah nodded. “One of our favorite things to do was play games.”

“Do you play cribbage?” Ronan looked so hopeful it was almost funny.

“I do.”

“Oh.” Ronan dramatically clapped his hand to his chest. “I’ll have to get a board. I’m sick of playing the computer.”

They spent the next twenty minutes playing backgammon. Noah won the first game, but Ronan got him on the second. When the timer went off, an ooey-gooey pizza came out of the oven. Ronan placed the entire pie on a wooden cutting board and split it apart with a pizza wheel.

“You’re, like, all official and everything.”

“I make a lot of pizza.”

“Why don’t you just order in?”

“Because I like to know exactly what’s going into my pie. And I can make things the chain places never would.”

“Like?”

“Like a breakfast pizza with eggs, sausage, mushrooms, and cheese.”

“Ooh, that sounds good.”

They ate at the table, talking about pizza while they consumed the entire pie. It wasn’t as big as something from a restaurant was but it was a million times better. The crust was crispy and chewy at the same time and the cheese had that perfect browned texture that made it stringy and crunchy. It was messy, but Noah didn’t care. He ate without feeling overly self-conscious.

“I didn’t think I was that hungry.” Noah helped Ronan put the kitchen back to rights. “And you are a really good cook.”

“Thank you.” Ronan grinned. “Well, what do we do now?”

“Ice cream.”

“I don’t have any.”

“Then let’s go out. I want something cold and creamy.”

“Excellent.” Ronan tossed the dishtowel over the oven handle. “After ice cream, we can come back here for something warm and creamy.”

“Is it just me or was that a little…ew?”

“It’s a little ew.” Ronan grabbed his keys. “Oh, wait. Bike or car?”

“Bike.” Noah sidled up to Ronan. “I like sitting plastered against you.”

“I like that, too. Although, to be fair, it would be much better if you were facing me.”

“You’d never be able to drive.”

“Oh yes I would.” Ronan waggled his brows.

In that moment, Noah again felt that pull toward Ronan. He was funny, sexy, and simply amazing in all that he did.

Once they had everything, they were off. Ronan moved through the late-evening traffic with calm assurance. Noah sat on the back, enjoying the feel of him and the security Ronan represented. Rather than dwell on what other people might be thinking about him, Noah decided to focus on what he was feeling. He felt safe. He felt comfortable. He felt honored as a person. When he’d been down in the dumps and in need of comfort, Ronan had been there for him. A long time ago in one of his Sunday school classes, there had been a little girl who asked how she would know when the right man came along. The teacher said that time was a long way off, but the girl persisted. She wanted to know how we’re supposed to know whom God has intended for us. What if we pick the wrong person? Flustered, the teacher hadn’t really answered the questions, but they’d stayed with Noah.

In doing his own research, he discovered that the church didn’t believe in soul mates. Marriage was work that any good man and good woman could make beautiful if they were fully committed. Since the church placed no value on finding “the one,” that meant there were many potential partners. To Noah’s mind, that meant pairing off was more a matter of finding the person he was most compatible with. Of course, by virtue of other teachings, that person would naturally be of the opposite sex.

However, if he took that issue out of the equation, Noah realized the only person he’d ever felt comfortable enough with to be himself was Ronan. Even though the relationship had started based on a sexual liaison, that didn’t mean it was any better or worse than how anyone else found his or her rightful partner.

“There’s a good place just a few blocks over.” Ronan’s voice was crystal clear inside Noah’s helmet.

“Perfect.”

When they arrived, they climbed off the bike, put their helmets in the trunk, and then went inside. The place wasn’t too crowded. The air was rich with the smell of various flavors. Vanilla, cherry, and peppermint were the strongest. Noah went up to the long row of displayed frozen treats.